Inger Frimansson - Good Night, My Darling

“Just a little more, Justine. You’re almost there!” She took a deep breath; there was another arm to creep under, one more second of respite. Then out again, and through the last bit. Nathan reached for her. She got up, and the water streamed from her clothes.

“I did it!” she panted.

“You sure did!” he answered, but then turned for the next one.

When evening came, they made camp next to a wide and stony riverbank. The native men began at once to collect twigs and light fires.

Martina was changing film.

“They’re lighting fires so that the animals won’t come,” she said. “The big mammals. The elephants come here to drink; we found their droppings over there, a few piles.”

“Do we have to be in the middle of their private area?” said Steinn. “That’s not very thoughtful toward the elephants. We can be anywhere in the jungle.”

“We can’t go any farther. Darkness is falling,” said Ben.

They helped each other tie up the plastic shelters. Madh stepped out into the river with his fish net. Then Justine remembered the wild pig.

“What about that pig we shot?” she asked.

“He gave it to his family. They have six small children.”

“Where is his family?”

“Somewhere here in the jungle.”

Martina took her towel and a plastic bag with soap and shampoo.

“I’m going to wash off all this shit. What about you, girls? Let’s take a ladies’ bath together.”

They found a small inlet where the water had made a lagoon. Justine had taken her swimsuit with her. Katrine and Martina slid into the water naked; they were as slippery and shiny as animals.

“Oh, if only I could live like this all the time! I wish I belonged to a tribe,” said Martina as she poured shampoo into her cupped hand. “Away from civilization and all its demands; return completely to nature.”

“Don’t you already live like that?” said Katrine. “All your world travels and the like.”

“Well, yes, in a manner of speaking. I’m never going to work nine to five. I can’t settle down anywhere. I’m looking for something new all the time. New experiences, new people.”

“Stephan and I have also traveled quite a bit. But once we get home this time, we’re going to get married and have some kids.”

“We’re planning that, too,” Justine said. “Getting married, having some kids.”

Martina was already climbing out of the water. A leaf had attached itself to her stomach, right over her black field of hair.

She wrapped the towel around herself.

“You and Nathan?”

“Yes.”

“I thought that he wasn’t going to tie himself down any more.”

Justine’s throat burned.

“What would you know about it?”

“Nothing. That’s just what I was picking up on.”

Morning came again. Heinrich had given her a sleeping pill. She had fallen asleep immediately. During the night, she awakened a few times, and thought about the elephants, half dozing. At one point, she thought she heard the trumpet of an elephant from a distance. When she saw that there still was smoke from the fire, she fell asleep again.

They ate fish and rice. Nathan was sun-tanned; his eyes were two blue stones. He looked at her with those eyes. He said, “We’re going to see the elephants.”

A thud against her ear, like an ache.

“Why?”

“Martina is going to take pictures of them. Jeda and I are going, too.”

“Who’s Jeda?”

“He’s the one in the green shirt.”

He had gotten up, the golden hair on his legs. He said,

“Martina and I are going with Jeda. He’s going to show us the elephants. We can’t all go, or we’ll scare them away.” The words pierced her, exploded.

Martina was ready to go, her camera hanging over her shoulder.

They were gone until the middle of the afternoon. When she saw them appear again from between the trees, she knew everything was over.

A blast of cold went from the roundness of her heels, through the bones of her pelvis, her chest and right into her heart.

She could no longer speak.

She waited. Something was going on with her skin, as if it were shrinking. A throbbing pain in her head, as if something was clamped too tightly.

Nathan was walking along the riverbank in order to find a spot to piss.

No one saw her take Madh’s blow pipe. No one saw her follow him, follow Nathan.

He stood and contemplated the water and the rapids. He stood and rolled a cigarette. He had formed his mouth to whistle, but she didn’t hear anything but the thunder of the waterfall.

The dart hit him right between the shoulder blades. He fell straight into the whirling, yellow water.

S omeone asked where Nathan was. Someone was asking with a whiny voice, Nathan, has anyone seen Nathan?

Maybe she was asking.

Maybe she herself.

She remembered voices, sounds.

And Nathan’s backpack in the middle of everything.

Eventually, they had to decamp. She remembered the way the grass caught her shoes and undid the knots. How she had to stop again and again to tie them, how much effort it took to bend down, how the dizziness gripped her, and the heat. They had left the jungle. They walked over a steaming hot field; she broke a leaf, as big as the ear of an elephant. She held it over her head like a shield.

They had searched for a long time, even she did. Madh searched with her, his eyes were black, his blow pipe hanging on his hip.

Early the next morning, Ben came up to her. She saw him come. She stood straight and silent.

“I know you don’t want to, but we have to go. We can’t search any longer.”

She started between the trees, as if she heard a sound.

She said, “The elephants.”

“The elephants?” he repeated.

“The elephants can go crazy if you get too close.”

He closed his eyes tightly.

“Poor little friend,” he said flatly.

She was put on board a train.

Maybe she was alone.

Someone came with coffee in a mug, someone came with water.

“Drink,” said a light, Swedish voice.

Martina’s.

The windows were open; the heat swept in; a swaddled infant screamed. The mother’s headscarf, held to her hair by two red pins. It looked like they went right into her temples. Martina’s fingers had white, clean nails.

The camera was no longer there.

She smelled her own body odor. A man came down the aisle, tottering. When he came closer, she saw it was Ben.

The train stopped for a moment. A village was out there. Two girls on a scooter; they smiled and waved.

The toilet was a hole in the floor. She got on her knees and threw up.

Then the city.

Ben said:

“I’ll take care of the tickets. There’s a plane tomorrow afternoon.”

He had found a hotel. He put her in the same room with Martina.

“It’s good that you’re not alone. At least you can speak Swedish to each other.”

He was extremely kind.

“Do you have a wife?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Yes, I do.”

“What’s her name?”

“Tam.”

“Tam.”

“Yes.”

“Do you love your wife Tam?”

“I love her and respect her.”

“Nathan!” she screamed, and then was quickly silent.

She got out of the shower; she was clean. She had showered for so long that the water finally ran cold.

Martina stood in the room, her thin back, her sarong like a skirt. She was holding something in her hand; it was the mascot. She had untied it from Justine’s backpack.

“What are you doing?” said Justine, her words coming like gravel and spikes.

“Nothing, just looking.”

Justine bent over her luggage, unhooked her parang .